The Ape Who Guards the Balance - Elizabeth Peters [48]
As did my spouse. Striding briskly, tall form erect and face alight with anticipation, Emerson was in his natural element here, and his casual attire set off his muscular frame far better than the formal garments convention forced upon him in civilized regions. Bronzed throat and arms bared, black hair blowing in the breeze, he was a sight to thrill the heart of any female.
“You were joking, Emerson, weren’t you? I agree with you about the importance of copying the records, but what you are doing is a kind of preservation too. If you had not found Tetisheri’s tomb, those wonderful objects would have been stolen or destroyed.”
Emerson looked at me in surprise. Then his well-cut lips curved in a smile. “My darling Peabody, it is like you to be concerned, but quite unnecessary, I assure you. When have you ever known me to suffer from a d fi eciency of self-assurance?”
“Never,” I said, returning his smile.
“I am the most fortunate of men, Peabody.”
“Yes, my dear. What do a few boring tombs matter? We are here, where we love to be, with those we love best.” I looked back over my shoulder. “What a handsome trio they are, to be sure, and how friendly with one another! I always said, Emerson, that they would turn out well.”
From Manuscript H
Nefret was lecturing again. “You said we would tell them after we left Cairo. Then you put it off until we reached Luxor. What are we waiting for? I agree with David, if we’re going to be scolded—”
“There’s no if about it,” Ramses said dourly.
“Then let’s get it over with! Anticipation is always worse than actuality.”
“Not always.”
“It is for me. When I looked in the mirror this morning I found two new wrinkles! Haven’t you noticed how pale and drawn I have become?”
Ramses looked down at the golden head near his shoulder. She was absolutely irresistible when she was in this mood, stamping along like a sulky child and scolding him in a voice that always held an undercurrent of laughter.
“No, I hadn’t noticed,” he said.
“You wouldn’t. I know what it is. You want to prove to the Professor and Aunt Amelia that you can handle a mess like this one with no help from them. You don’t want to show them the papyrus until you can tell them where it came from and hand over the thief, dead or alive—”
He was sure he had not reacted except by a slight break in his stride, but Nefret caught herself with a gasp and turned her head to look up into his face.
“I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry. I thought you’d got over it.”
“Over what?”
He began walking faster. She broke into a trot, keeping pace with him. “Damn it, Ramses—”
“And don’t swear. Mother doesn’t like it.”
Nefret stopped. “Hell and damnation!” she shouted.
“Now she’s looking back,” Ramses said apprehensively. “And Father is glowering at me over his shoulder. Could you please stop yelling and try to look pleasant before you get me in serious trouble?”
Nefret gave him a calculating look. Then she threw her head back and let out a piercing soprano peal of laughter. It rose to an even more piercing shriek as Horus stuck all his claws into her. He didn’t like people to yell in his ear.
“And put the damned cat down!” Ramses’s fingers itched with the urge to remove the beast from her arms and find out whether a cat always lands on its feet when it is dropped from a height. He knew better than to try it, though. “You can’t carry him all the way to the Valley, he weighs almost twenty pounds.”
“Would